


Puzzle

by Smol_hamster



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Age Play Caregiver Chae Hyungwon, Age Play Caregiver Lee Minhyuk, Age Play Caregiver Son Hyunwoo, Age Play Caregiver Yoo Kihyun, Age Play Little Im Changkyun, Alternate Universe - BDSM, And stubborn, Angst, Changkyun is scared, Designations, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Possible smut, Switch Lee Jooheon, Switch Lee hoseok, little Changkyun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smol_hamster/pseuds/Smol_hamster
Summary: Changkyun is not happy with his designation and attempts to run from the government, he doesn’t get very far, and chaos ensues.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M, Im Changkyun | I.M/Everyone, Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Jooheon, Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Minhyuk, Im Changkyun | I.M/Son Hyunwoo | Shownu, Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 52
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeahh, i’m not too sure what this is. But um, enjoy?

“Come on, come on, where is it..” the young boy muttered under his breath as he rummaged through the few clothes and few other items in a black bag, his black hair messy, greasy and a bit too long as it got in the way of his vision. There were streaks of dirt, ash and specks of blood littering the pale skin of his neck and face, his clothes dirty, ripped and all too big on his slight frame. He cursed as he drew his shaking hands out of the bag, sitting back on his heels and looking wildly around the small dank room. A grimy mattress, a tattered blanket and a small dim light bulb attached to the ceiling. That’s all that filled the space. 

The boy sat on his haunches, his expression one of panic and thoughtfulness, as though he had found his answer he stood up quickly. Too quickly and ended up staggering in place a bit, before regaining his footing and scurrying over to the deflated mattress. It weighed practically nothing, as the boy seemed to have no problem picking it up just a bit to reach for something underneath. He dropped the mattress down after he pulled out a crisp white envelope, it was still sealed and looked to be pretty damn important if the fancy blue inked image next to the stamp had anything to show. The boy took in a deep, shaky breath, fingers trembling as he nervously and slowly open the envelope and pulled out a clean, white folded document. He unfolded it after placing the envelope on the mattress next to where he sat, looking away and biting his lip, before steeling himself and turning his head back to read the letter. As he read through the rows of clean, sharp cut letters, the black typewriter ink contrasting starkly with the snowy white paper, he felt his heart plummet and the boulders crash in his stomach. 

Disappointment. That was how his parents would feel. 

He read the one offending word over and over again, the one singular word that had him scared and anxious. The one name that told him his designation. Who he was. How he would be identified. 

Tears fell from his eyes before he had noticed they had formed, the burning liquid staining the pure sheet in his trembling hands as his head hung low in shame. The word blearily taunting him as he used his shoulders to wipe away the tears from his eyes, clearing his vision and smudging more grey upon his face, as he took another look, checking for any sign of a mistake on the document. Any sign that they had got the wrong person. 

But there was no mistake. His name clearly printed in that vicious font. Each letter precise and sharp. His name, date of birth, blood type, height, weight and each family member’s designation. All of that was pressed down within the first cluster of black ink. His own designation was right in the middle of the page, catching attention if someone else were to read it. Making itself known to any possible onlookers if they were to get a brief look. 

He was alone though. In a small dirty room, the walls cracked with paint peeling, cobwebs and dirt smears decorating them, the floor was harsh and cold, wooden slabs of splintering wood if you didn’t step in the right place. He was alone in the room with a dim ceiling light that only had a faint glow and flickered at random intervals, with the door that creaked and had a hole the size of someone’s fist above the dull grey handle. With a mattress with lumps and odd stains he didn’t want to think about, but it made do for a few hours of restless sleep, with a blanket that was thin and had become threadbare in certain patches from overuse. He didn’t want anyone to know. He had no intention in letting anyone else know what he was. He just had to make sure he could suppress it, bury it deep with in him, cage it and never let it out. Make sure his biology didn’t mess with him and show his true colors. 

His freedom was pretty much gone now. If they found out. He just had to hide a major part of him, play another character, someone who wasn’t him. 

The one word which now hung like a heavy weight on his shoulders and big sign above his head. The one word that made dread settle in his stomach like lead. 

Little. 

That’s what his designation was. A little. Not a neutral like his parents and brother. But a little. The one designation he knew he shouldn’t be, the one he knew his parents would be disappointed and would throw him out if they lived with him. 

But they didn’t. They kicked him out a while ago. When he was only 15 and had no where to go, when he said he might like boys but was still unsure, when he painted his right pinky finger to see if he liked it. He was 19 now and knew he liked boys and loved the feel of the cold paint against his nails, the fumes drawing him in and holding him close like a comforting warm blanket. 

The paper that was once crisp white and clean was now crumpled where the boy held it, a few droplets of tears staining the paper and making the ink bleed. It was no longer pure and innocent, it was tainted and evil. 

The boy sniffled and wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms, after he stuffed the letter back in the envelope. Drawing in a shaky breath and wiping his nose with his the end of his tattered sleeve. 

He sat there for a while, surrounded by silence, the letter sat next to him, taunting him. Thinking about what to do. Thinking about the news that had been projected on the radio last week, when he went to the convenience store for a bottle of water and the cheapest thing to eat. A small packet of crackers, a few day’s out of date and they were stale around the edges, but they had quietened the growling in his stomach. 

If they found him, he’d be taken to a home for Littles, his freedom would be stripped away. The government had issued a new law, ‘all Littles had to have a registered caregiver, someone to care for them,’ because apparently ‘Littles are a hazard to themselves and aren’t capable of caring for themselves’. Apparently submissive’s, pets and slaves were fine, just not Littles. It was bullshit. He knew how to take care of himself, he’d done it long enough. He didn’t need some stranger forcing him into a headspace he didn’t want to be in. 

Unfortunately, as every designation letter was sent out, every individual was marked in the system. Before the law that was passed last week, you wouldn’t have to do anything until you found your other or other’s. Meaning you each just had to call the number on your designation letter or go to the Centre and say you had someone/some people. But now, if you were a little and you didn’t have a caregiver, dominant or master in your family or a caregiver full stop, you would be taken into a Littles home and wouldn’t be released until one came looking for you and a load of documents were signed. As every individual was marked into the system, that meant they also had contact details and adresses, it had been mandatory to provide them in the presentation appointments. 

It also meant, any Littles who weren’t marked in the system with a caregiver (or more), could be taken into the homes by any government authorities. Littles had 48hours to either call the number or register at the Centre, a building in each city where each designation was registered. 

He found it unfair. He was old enough to care for himself, his new found designation would not get in the way of his life. His own letter had been received mid morning yesterday, two days after his presentation appointment, but he hadn’t been in his place of residence long enough to open it. Working during the day at a cafe and odd hours at a corner store at night, meant he didn’t stay long enough to do much apart from sleep a few hours and maybe eat a meal or two. He had until tomorrow before someone would come and collect him and take him away. He was not letting that happen. 

Scrubbing his eyes with his sleeves, just to make sure no tears will fall, he stands up and and pulls his bag over to the mattress. Sighing, he takes a seat back on it and pulls the bag between his legs, taking the letter and stuffing it under everything. Buried, just like that part of him. He bit his lower lip, as his fingers drummed a light steady beat against his thighs, he took another look at the bag before shaking his head and scrunching his nose. 

“Alright..fine..” he muttered and pulled a small white and tan dog from within the bag. The white was now more of a light grey and it was smudged with dirt stains, the floppy ears and cute eyes paired with the little black nose, had the boy smiling softly to himself. He set the bag aside and kicked off his worn trainers, before curling up under the blanket, trying to warm himself as the cold temperature of the room started to settle into his bones. Wrapping himself tightly around the small dog plushie, making himself as small as possible, he yawned and his eyes started to flutter shut, sleep setting in. He could deal with leaving tomorrow, he’d find a new place to live and everything would be fine, he just had to wake up early tomorrow morning and escape before they took him. 

The hours of endless work set upon his shoulders, fading as exhaustion nestled in his body and he fell asleep, his dreams plagued with the possibilities of tomorrow. 

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..they’re gonna get me.” His voice was deep and laced with sleep and panic, making him confused as he tried to get his bearings and figure out what was going on. It was still pretty cold and the blanket was serving as very little protection, his puppy was still cocooned in his arms and he smiled once again at the plushie. 

His eyes wide with realisation, he kicks the blanket off, escaping it’s clutches as he rolls off the lumpy mattress, scrambling to throw the tattered sweater off his torso, shivering as the cold air hit him and grabbing a newer, cleaner looking black hoodie from his backpack and pulling it over his head. He hurriedly pulled on a pair of cleaner boxers and grey sweatpants before stuffing the dirty clothes back into the bag along with his plushie and dirtied blanket. The boy stuffed his feet into the trainers and quickly tied them. 

He scanned the room for any other items he needed to take with him, before noticing his small, grey flip phone sat on the floor, white scratches from where it had fallen too many times. He grabbed it and shoved it in his left pocket, before hastily zipping his bag up. 

Slipping his arms through the straps while simultaneously opening the door, hands covered with the hoodie to somewhat protect himself against the cold, was an easy enough task. He sighed, pulling the hood up and over his head, hoping to hid his face from anyone, he exited the room and was met with a dank smelling hallway, mold creeping up the white walls and the carpet was littered with disgusting looking stains. The shattered window, providing light and letting ivy grow through the broken pane, as well as letting the cold morning air stew. The boy shuddered as he shut the door behind him and headed for the staircase, the banister was dusty and splintered, chunks of once high valued wood, now useless and nothing more than a fire and health hazard. The stairs were lined with the same carpet, no longer plush and a light brown color, now a flat, trampled expanse of dirty fibres. He ignored the other doors and the state they were in. 

He was on the third floor, and was thankful he wouldn’t have to climb down many flights of stairs, just two. He would be fine. His heart was racing and anxiety was rushing through his veins, there were butterflies in his stomach, but they weren’t soft and delicate; they were harsh and sharp edged, cruel and cold. He swallowed and started making his way down the first flight of stairs, he got to the middle of the second floor’s hallway, before he was met with the sound of hushed, hurried voices and strong, pounding footsteps. Not the regular noises you’d hear from the usual individuals who lived here. 

Shit. 

They were here. 

He had to escape. 

But how?

He wouldn’t fit through the shattered windows, nor could he run up 17 other flights of stairs. 

He was screwed. 

He was frozen in place, his heart beating way too fast and was surely audible to anyone else. His breath was caught in his throat and his eyes were wide and glassy. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Not a good time to have a panic attack. Or cry. 

He couldn’t go back upstairs, they’d find him, he wasn’t allowed in other peoples rooms. His fists clenched firmly around his hoodie sleeves and he took in a deep, shaky breath, before exhaling nervously and ducking his head down when he heard the footsteps get nearer and the voices get louder. He continued his journey towards the second floors staircase, his steps were wobbly and his body felt unsure. 

Maybe he could pretend to call the Centre? No that wouldn’t work, they’d still come and collect him, even if he said he had someone. He couldn’t just provide a random name and hope they were a caregiver. 

Attempting to walk past them was the best idea he had right now. The authorities, there were two of them, both dressed in padded black clothing, it was bulletproof, he could tell by the vest they each had strapped on. They both had large pockets on their trousers and had multiple items on their belts, guns, a baton, handcuffs and a few pouches. One was a female, the other was male. Both taller and physically bigger than him. Very little chance he would escape them. 

Their backs were currently to him as they walked up the stairs, boot heavy steps making their way to the destination, he tried taking another step, but he wobbled in place and inhaled sharply, thankfully not drawing in the attention of the two. He couldn’t help but lift his head as they walked onto the hallway, both stopping sharply as they took note of him and he took note of them. 

The guy had short brown hair, which was parted just off center, he had sharp cheek bones and plush lips, over all he looked pretty intimidating. The woman had brown hair which was knotted into a low bun, tight and neat. Her eyes held a certain warmth, as well as a firm undertone. 

Both pairs of eyes scanning his figure and the woman stepped forwards one step, one of her hands slowly creeping towards one of the guns on her belt. His eyes were drawn to it, snapping away from her face and to her hands slow movement. 

“Hey kiddo,” her voice was calm and collected, soothing as though she were talking to a frightened child, “are you Im Changkyun?” 

The boy, Changkyun, said nothing. His eyes wide in fear, his skin paled, making the dirt and grime stand out harsher, he took a slow step backwards. His eyes flashed over to the stairs leading back to his floor, before glancing warily at the two. The man hadn’t done anything, he stood there observing, his gaze was kind of intimidating and Changkyun shuddered slightly before gulping, turning his attention to the woman, she had one gun in her right hand and her stance was defensive. They both took a step forwards and that was enough to break Changkyun out of his trance, his eyes tore away from them and towards the stairs. 

He ran. His back pack thumping with every step, as he shot up the stairs, determined to get away. He passed his door and narrowly saw the sad looking mattress through the hole in the door. Through his panicked state of mind he was aware of the thumping footsteps, hot on his heels. As he ran towards the stair case for the fourth floor, avoiding the pile of glass and varying shards, he was just about to take step up them before there were arms around his arms and waist. Restricting his movements and pinning him against the body, he growled as he thrashed in his capturers arms, they were strong and firm and there was no gun in either hand. His bag was squashed against his back, ‘harming his dog’. He attempted to kick the other’s knees, his legs flailing wildly, but there was no success as the person turned around and started walking towards his room. The door already open and the woman was stood next to the mattress, her posture stiff and alert, gun still in her hands. 

The man said nothing, but simply dropped Changkyun from his hold and quickly shut the door, the smaller had a panicked expression upon his face as he looked at both figures, frantically trying to find a way out. But there was none. He was trapped. 

“Sweetheart, look at me, we won’t hurt you, we just need to get you to safety.” The woman’s voice cut through his panic filled haze, the term of endearment had a small part of him soothed, but he refused to let it show and instead snarled at her. 

“Was perfectly fucking fine, thank you.” His eyes narrow at her and he glares, his feet moving slowly backwards, not noticing he was a few small steps from hitting the wall.

She smiles softly “Just come with us and we’ll get you some where nice and safe. Don’t you want a better place to sleep, than that sad excuse of a bed?” They keep inching forwards and he realised he’s run out of room , the wall pressing against his bag and he takes half a step forwards. 

“Go away, I don’t need your help,” he growled, his eyes frantically darting to find an opening or space where he could dash out. 

“Don’t you want a nice bottle of warm milk before you sleep? Warm food and a nice place to rest and just let go?” 

“Fuck off!” He spits at her, edging himself along the wall away from her. His eyes wild with fear, the man thankfully takes note and puts both his hands in front of him. 

“Hey Yuki, talking about that stuff isn’t helping him. Get the machine ready and sedative number 1, please.” Yuki nods at his words and backs off, preparing the stuff he asked for. 

“I’m Hyunwoo, I won’t hurt you, can you tell me your name, please?” Hyunwoo’s voice is low and soothing, Changkyun finds himself relaxing the slightest as he gives a small nod. 

He winces before swallowing and murmuring his name. The taller nods his head, “thank you Changkyun. How old are you?” 

“19.” 

The other smiles at him and it leaves Changkyun filled with some sort of fuzzy warmth, “you’re being very helpful, thank you little one. Do you know why we’re here?” His tone is soothing, the smaller feels as though he could bask in it. 

He shakes his head and clenches his fist, before shrugging his shoulders and he scans the distance from here to the door, looking for an appropriate opening to escape with out them catching him. 

“We’re gonna go get you registered at the Centre and then to a Little home.”

“No!”

“No, what, little one?” 

Changkyun shuffles in place, the sharp winged butterflies in his stomach making it difficult to concentrate, “ ‘m not a Little, I don’t need to be taken care of, ‘m fine like this.”

A brief frown makes an appearance on Hyunwoo’s face, but it vanishes as quickly as it came, “everyone needs to be taken care of, regardless of their designation.” There’s a calming way, in which he speaks, low with soft undertones. 

Changkyun gives a stubborn and hesitant nod at the man’s words and eyes the door, while slowly edging his way along the wall, his steps slow and careful; avoiding the creaky wooden floor boards and the occasional concerningly large splinter, ready to impale anyone. His eyes stray from the door and back to the man’s face, his eyes were calm and held this warmth, almost like hot chocolate, warm and comforting, his facial features were sharp and his skin was smooth and a soft caramel color, different from all those models in the advertisements with icy pale skin. He tears his eyes away from the man towering over him and darts around him, heading straight for the door. 

As though the taller had been eyeing his every move, he reached both hands out to grab Changkyun, but was deemed unsuccessful when the smaller reared away from his grasp and tore open the door, his steps nimble and quick as he ran out the room. “Shit, Yuki stay here.” Hyunwoo ordered as he ran out after the boy, not bothering to hear the answer from his partner. 

Changkyun ran straight for the stairs leading towards the second floor, not even stopping as a sharp, jagged chunk of wood caught his hoodies right sleeve, tearing through the interwoven threads and slicing through the skin below his elbow. Blood started to run down his arm, the dark color of his hoodie hiding where the blood would have soaked through the fabric. The gash in his arm exposed through the tear in the fabric, the edges of the rip held a sheen, the sign the blood had soaked through the dark material. 

Only when he had reached the second floor, did he realise that he was bleeding, but he didn’t stop running, his footsteps weren’t heavy, but they were small muffled thuds against the grimy carpet. He felt a fuzzy feeling start to overcome his mind and the panic that was the primary driver in his escape. Changkyun didn’t even notice he had stopped until there was a strong arm wrapped firmly around his waist and he was tugged against a solid chest. 

The fuzzy feeling, was not like anything he’d felt before. It made him want things he was sure a 19 year old was not supposed to want. A part of him wanted safety and warmth, blankets and cuddles, teddies and warm baths, anything other than what he had right now, anything other than being overworked, hungry and tired all the time. But the other part of him wanted to run, to hide and get away from everyone. To repress the part craving safety and warmth. 

He was in a stranger’s arms and yet he felt safe. Safer than he’d ever felt before. Safer than he’d ever felt with his parents. But he was surprisingly okay with it. Changkyun turned his head to the side to nuzzle into Hyunwoo’s neck and his eyes fluttered shut as he sighed in a mixture of contentment and exhaustion (he only woke up like half an hour ago) and a small whine wormed it’s way out of his mouth as a hand clamped over the wound on his arm. 

The low rumble of Hyunwoo’s voice and deep, steady breathing from his firm chest sent Changkyun to sleep, his left hand unconsciously curling and his thumb making its way to his mouth. 

“You’re safe now little one, don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was the sound of low murmurings and shoes squeaking on linoleum tiles, as Changkyun started to wake. He felt as though a thick, heavy blanket of fog had crowded his mind, his vision was blurry and he felt warm. Whatever he was curled up on was abnormally comfortable, he lifted his head from where it was ducked down, and found himself staring at a sharp, defined jaw. 

He was definitely not on his mattress. 

Memories of what had happened earlier came flooding through, dispersing the clouds and making way for the sharp icicles of reality. 

He had been caught. He was sat on someone’s lap. His right arm was throbbing and he had no idea where he was. 

Blinking a few times helped clear the blurriness and the remains of sleep from his eyes. He didn’t move though, that would draw attention to whoever he was sat on, he couldn’t see much; other than an arm and white flooring. 

So he listened instead. 

Straining his ears to catch a few words of the low mumblings, it seemed as though it was a conversation between a person near him and over a walkie talkie. The crackling static was a big giveaway. 

“-as wounded, we’re in the hospital waiting for a doctor.”

Changkyun couldn’t distinguish what the person on the radio was saying, the voice wasn’t clear. 

“Hyunwoo and I will bring him there once he’s done.”

Static. 

“He was scared, confused and possibly a little angry. Currently calm and sleeping on Hyunwoo’s lap.”

More static. 

“The place wasn’t suitable at all. He has a back pack and that’s about it, there’s nothing in it other than some clothes, a stuffed toy dog, a few hygienic items, his designation letter and a ratty blanket. A phone and small amount of money in his pocket though.”

Crackle. Crackle. 

“Yes, understood ma’am. We will see you then.”

There was the sound of clothes rustling before a gentle hand landed upon his shoulder and he flinched away involuntarily, the arms caging him in tightened their grip. He scowled and wriggled a bit, the arms stayed locked in place. The sound of footsteps nearing him had him going still, muscles tense. 

Then there was a woman in front of him, she crouched down, her eyes level with his own and he adverted his gaze downwards, clenching his jaw as he did so. 

“Hey Changkyun,” her voice was filled with enthusiasm, he could hear the smile in her voice, “we’re gonna get your arm looked at and fixed up, do ya need anything will we wait?”

He brought his head up slightly and glared at her, “to go home.” Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a glint of playfulness in her eyes. 

“Soon, okay, we need your help with some paperwork-“

“Can’t you fill it out yourselves, you’ve already looked through my stuff, that’s all the information I have.” 

The woman- Yuki, that was her name!- didn’t answer but her eye twitched as her jaw tensed subtly. “We had to make sure there was nothing that was a hazard to your health among your possessions.” It was Hyunwoo who spoke, his voice deep and Changkyun could feel the rumble in the other’s chest throughout his body. 

“We’re not your guardians, so you are going to need to fill out the forms.” Was the response he got from the other man. 

“Can I sit in my own seat? Or is that not allowed?” His snarky comments were most likely unwanted from the other two, but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck. 

“Changkyun, we just want what’s best for you-“

“Yeah right.” He scoffs, glaring at Yuki, a blaze burning in his eyes. “Now let me go.”

With a frustrated sigh, Changkyun was surprised to see that Hyunwoo had unwrapped his arms. He’s quick to hop out of his lap and scuttle a few seats away, before sitting down and leaning back against the back of the chair, his head rested against the wall and eyes to the stark white ceiling. 

Everything smelt so strongly of chemicals, the overpowering scent of bleach and whatever concoction of disinfectants they use, it was enough to cover the scent of himself, it had been less than five days since he’d last showered, and he was hoping he would have been able to take one today after he had taken off and disappeared from the radar of the government officials. 

A clip board was placed in his lap and he brought his head down to look at it. He huffed in displeasure at what looked like a fairly thick wad of paperwork and forms, before picking up the pen in his left hand. As he went to move his right arm, he let out a soft whimper through gritted teeth, instantly ceasing movement of the limb and resigning to clutch the edge of the clipboard between the dirty fingers of his left hand and the pen. He tugged it closer and started reading. 

The first page was easy.   
Name? Im Changkyun or Daniel Im  
Age? 19  
Date of birth? 26 January 2000  
Blood type? O  
Gender? Male  
Allergies? None.   
Contact information? Only a phone number.   
Address? Well that was a bit of a difficult place to put on a map. 

Parents information? Skip that one. Designation? A definite skip.   
Height? 5foot something. Weight? Unknown. 

The second, third and Fourth pages were about something to do with a long list of medications and whether he was taking any or not, as well as any medical history or previous diagnosis’s. 

The fifth page wanted his employers contact information, so he skipped past that. Similarly on the sixth page where they wanted his spouse or dom/caregiver/master’s contact information. None of which he had, so that page was skipped as well. The last page he found to be a big waste of paper, it consisted of two sentences and two lines, so he wrote down the date- February 21 2019- and then scrawled his signature before flipping the pages shut and tossing it into the seat to his left. 

“Done, where’s my bag?” Changkyun turned his gaze to the two of them, they were sat down and observing him. 

With, what obviously looks like a forced cheery smile, Yuki speaks, “could you hand the clipboard and pen here, please?” Completely disregarding his question. 

He narrows his eyes at her and repeats his question, “where’s my bag?” His tone laced with spite. 

She asks again and her tone is forceful and on the edge of commanding. There is a tiny section in his mind telling him to do as he’s told, but he simply grits his teeth and his eyebrows furrow. 

“Where the hell is my bag?” He snarls, his left leg bouncing anxiously as his fingers curl around his trouser leg, knuckles turning white at how tight his grip was. 

“Changkyun. Give the clipboard and pen here. Now. I’ll tell you where your bag is, as long as you follow instructions.” Changkyun’s attention is immediately snatched away from Yuki and towards Hyunwoo, who did not look particularly happy or mad at him; just neutral? Like he’s had to put in a firm word before and isn’t deterred from doing it again. 

At the firm words, his features soften into one of an anxious puppy and he can’t help but nod his head. Uncurling his fingers slowly and grasping both requested items, before standing up and walking the three steps and handing the things to Yuki, whos glare softens into a soft smile. As she murmurs her thanks she scans through the documents, pausing at the blanks. 

“Changkyun, you need to write your designation on here and someone elses contact information.” Yuki’s voice is soft, he just stands there awkwardly, looking down and avoiding eye contact. 

He grits his teeth, “no. I’m not writing those down.”

“Why not? The doctors need to know.”

“They can use the information on that. I’m not writing anything else.” The end of his hoodie sleeve is scrunched up in his left hand, his right arm dangling limply as he lifts his head and takes a quick glance at either of them before directing his view elsewhere. 

A poster is what happened to be the thing that caught his eye. Something about safe ways to discipline and he scoffed mentally at it. The two officials didn’t look angry, just an odd mix of exasperated and confused. 

The sound of clicking heels stopped outside the small, empty waiting room and Changkyun cast his gaze over towards the door way, where a scarily tall and smiley man was stood. “Officials Son Hyunwoo and Akiyama Yuki with Im Changkyun?” Hyunwoo and Yuki both stand up, Yuki heads towards the doctor and Hyunwoo stands to his left and wraps his hand around Changkyun’s bicep, before guiding him after Yuki and the doctor. 

“I can walk myself, ya know.” The smaller grumbles to himself, willing himself not to flinch away from the hand on his arm. 

“Precautions. And don’t worry your bag is safe and in the car, you’ll get it when we get to the center.” He bristles at the thought of them keeping his stuff away from him. 

“W-What are they gonna do to me there?” 

“Don’t worry, little one, they won’t do anything that’ll hurt you. They’ll take your information down, assign you to a home for Little’s, but that’s standard for any Little. For you, they’ll have to examine the contents of your bag, clean you and check you over for injuries of any sort, they might cut your hair, but they’ll give you a snack and something to drink. Then you’ll either be picked up by someone and taken to a Home or someone will take you there.”

Changkyun nodded his head slowly, his eyes wide and breath shaky, he didn’t like the thought of other people touching him and his stuff. Taking away his privacy and his comfort. He didn’t want them treating him like a child, he wasn’t one, and dammit he could take care of himself. 

“I’m aware you’re not accepting of your designation,” Hyunwoo’s voice was soft as it broke through his train of thoughts, “and considering the conditions we found you living in, there is a chance that you might not go to a Home but to group or a family. Given how you reacted to us and how you tried to run, the chances of going to a Home are moderately low. You don’t trust us, but you’ll listen to me, but only a little. If they were to put you in a Home it would cause you a greater deal of stress than the past two hours have. Yuki and I have reported this to our higher up and they should be telling the Center we’re taking you to, that information.”

Changkyun huffed a shaky breath through his nose before looking up at the other, his eyes wide and jaw clenched tightly shut. He just nods his head and turns his attention to the doctor and Yuki, whom also seemed to be in a conversation. The doctor nodded his head, before veering left towards a door, unlocking it with his ID badge, he held it open for Yuki, who entered with a slight dip of her head in his direction. 

“Please come in, Changkyun could you take a seat on the table, please.” Though the doctor’s friendly tone phrased it as a question, Changkyun knew that it wasn’t. 

He tugs his arm out of Hyunwoo’s hold when the taller guides him to the table and growls under his breath, before climbing up; using one arm proved to be kind of difficult when the table was so high. 

Once he succeeded, the paper crinkling loudly and creasing in some spots, he sat there with his legs crossed, hands in his lap with the expression of an angry kitten on his face. Hyunwoo stayed stood next to the table, his eyes watching the doctor as he bumbled about, grabbing various medical instruments, before making his way over to them. 

“Okay, my name is Doctor John Suh. Official Yuki filled me in on what happened, but I need you to tell me how your arm feels.” The doctor set the instruments down next to Changkyun on the white paper. 

“Numb, but it kind of hurts.” He gulps nervously as he sees what instruments are next to him. All metal and they all have a predatory gleam to them, sharp and dangerous. 

“Okay, and you haven’t been given any medication of any sort since you’ve been injured?”

Changkyun shakes his head, his eyes flitting anxiously from the sharp gleaming items to the doctor’s neck, avoiding his eyes. 

“I’m going to need to clean it and stitch it, it looks like the blood has dried and stuck to your skin and hoodie, so i’m going to need to take it off-“

“No.”

The doctor looks perplexed and Changkyun can hear twin resonating sighs. “I have to make sure the wound isn’t infected and I need to make sure it isn’t deep enough to warrent surgery-“

“No. My hoodie stays o-“

Hyunwoo cuts him off, his voice stern, “Changkyun, do as you are told, Dr.Suh needs to make sure you don’t get sicker and feel worse, you don’t want to have surgery, do you?”

He goes to speak and the other levels him with a firm glare and an eyebrow raise and he lowers his eyes and shakes his head, before mumbling a ‘no’. 

“Do you want me to take your hoodie off?”

He thinks for a moment before subtly nodding his head. Then there are hands at the hem of his hoodie and thumbs trailing up the heated skin of his torso. 

“Left arm up.”

He does so, and the item of clothing his peeled of him and left pooling at his right shoulder. Hyunwoo murmers a phrase that sounds a lot like, “good boy,” and Changkyun can’t help the soft fuzzy feeling in his belly as a small and subtle smile twitches at the corners of his lips.

He shivers as the air hits his skin and curls in in himself just slightly, goosebumps appearing upon his paled skin. 

“Would you be able to do a height and weight check on him, afterwards?” Yuki’s voice is soft and behind him. 

The doctor’s eyes rake over his torso, ribs and hips protruding enough to show he hadn’t eaten enough, faint smears of dirt littering his skin, and gives an affirmed nod of his head. 

“I’ll check his heart rate, breathing and pupil dilation before checking his wound.” 

Changkyun decided to call him Johnny, John was too, for the lack of a better word, boring. 

Johnny had grabbed the stethoscope from around his neck and had already placed the small ear-tips in his ears and had his fingers wrapped around the chest piece. “Sorry, this will be slightly cold.”

Changkyun flinches backwards at the cold metal pressed against his chest, one of Hyunwoo’s hand’s pressing between his shoulder blades and forcing him forwards again. He shudders at the cold seeping into his heated skin, Johnny offers an apologetic smile and continues to listen to the rapid and anxious beat of the smaller’s heart, Changkyun knew his heart was beating fast and he could feel his heart hammering away, as though it was trying to escape the cage it was enclosed in. 

“Your heart is faster than it should be, are you nervous?” Changkyun nods his head and the doctor gives an understanding hum. “Okay, i’m going to need you to breath in deeply when I say ‘in’ and exhale when I say ‘out’. Got it?” Another nod. 

The same cold, circular metal piece was placed below his left should blade, and he flinched again, before moving himself back. 

“In.”

Inhale. 

“Out.”

Exhale. 

The chest piece moves to under his right shoulder blade. 

“In.”

Inhale. 

“Out.”

Exhale. 

“Good, well done, your breathing is good, slightly shaky, but again could be down to nerves.” Changkyun watches as the other man removes the stethoscope and returns it to the place around his neck and resting upon his shoulders, before taking out a small device from his breast pocket, a little torch. 

Johnny peers down at him as he flashes the light across his each of his eyes a few times, the heat of the light slightly uncomfortable. And at that moment, his stomach decided to make itself announced. A small grumble rang through the quiet room and Changkyun couldn’t help the hue painting his cheeks, nose and ears a heated shade of red. The doctor smiles and puts the torch away. 

Hyunwoo merely chuckles, “hungry, little one?”

“Maybe. Just a little.” Sheepish words paired with an embarrassed pout. 

“There’s some food in the car for you to eat. If you ask nicely, i’m sure Yuki could go down to the cafeteria and get something?”

Changkyun contemplates his options, wait until later or soothe the very angry monster within his stomach. He stubbornly keeps his mouth shut, before another pang of hunger hits him and he sighs, “can I have something to eat or some water, please?” His voice is soft, but loud enough to be heard. 

“Yeah, sure, anything you can’t eat?” Yuki answers and he thinks for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Okay then, i’ll be right back. Radio me if you need anything Hyunwoo.”

The sound of the door opening and shutting is heard before there is silence again. 

“I’m not going to lie, this next part is probably going to hurt the most, so i’m going to ask if you want any local anaesthetic?”

“What does it do?”

“It’ll numb the area, so that you don’t feel any pain, you’ll feel pressure but no pain.”

Changkyun nods his head and grimaces at the thought of needles, “do you have to inject it?”

The other nods his head and Changkyun ducks his head, “but I can use some numbing cream over the area that will be injected.”

“Fine.”

Johnny moves away and Changkyun watches as the doctor opens a few cupboards and pulls a few small items out; a vile, a tube and what looked like white gauze. He spots Hyunwoo out of the corner of his eye, he looks as though he’s watching the doctor as well, sharp eyes following every move. Johnny is back over to them in a few long strides, he sets the items down next to the metal instruments, removes the gloves he has on and chucks them into the bin next to the table, before snapping on a new pair. 

“Okay, before I can give you the local anaesthetic, i’m going to need to take the rest of the hoodie off, given that the blood has somewhat dried it to both your skin and the wound, this part is going to hurt.” At least he didn’t sound evil saying that last part, instead he sounded apologetic and sympathetic. “But I can try to cut the sleeve off and cut the remainder in half and then try to clean the blood away so that the material is somewhat wet, and peeling the fabric away doesn’t hurt as much?”

Changkyun was trembling, the prospect of the wound ripping open and introducing more blood and more pain made him feel nauseous. But he gulped and nodded his head. The doctor moves away to the sink where he collects a small packet and fills two stainless steel kidney dishes with water, before carefully walking back over. The smaller, slowly inched back on the table, a brewing pit of bubbling anxiety lay furiously in his stomach, the thought of eating, now, made him feel worse. 

Changkyun watches as the doctor places them down, opens the packet and dumps half of contents into one of the dishes, they were cotton balls, the small clouds soaking up the water as soon as they hit the liquid’s surface. After placing the packet down, the doctor picks up a pair of thin, shiny scissors, blades gleaming in the white light. As he raises his arm, he notices how badly he’s shaking, fingers trembling uncontrollably and his arm burns at every movement. 

“Take a deep breath, okay, I just have to cut the fabric first.”

Changkyun nods and shakily sucks in a deep breath, as the doctor starts cutting the fabric on the inside of his forearm. The scissors making sharp, clean cuts, carefully ensuring that skin isn’t caught along the cool metal of each blade. The fabric giving way to pale, unmarred skin, the straight line stops above the crease of his elbow and on his bicep. The line becomes horizontal as the scissors move around his upper arm, leaving a large rectangle of fabric stuck to his forearm. Johnny is quick to place the scissors down and carefully pull the rest of the hoodie off Changkyun, the warmth resting upon his shoulder now gone. The garment is discarded behind him and he can’t help but drag it next to him with his left hand and clutch the material between his fingers, the soft fibres providing a weak sense of comfort, but it was something. 

Changkyun notices that Johnny uses a pair of tweezers instead of his fingers, when he picks up one of the cotton balls, draining the dripping water by pressing it to the inside of the dish, where the water level hadn’t hit, leaving the little sodden ball half saturated with water. He watches as the doctor uses careful precision, gently dabbing away under the flap of material and carefully cleaning away the dried blood, trying to separate it from the material. The process around the wound is slow and thankfully not very painful, Changkyun only winces and flinches when Johnny gets closer to the wound. 

“Okay, you might want to hold Official Hyunwoo’s hand and look away.” Changkyun notices the nod towards the fabric in his left hand and he scowls up at the doctor briefly, before a hand is placed on his thigh and he hugs the fabric close to his body with the inside of his forearm, whilst loosely placing his hand in Hyunwoo’s. He gives the hand a tentative squeeze and shuts his eyes. 

The throb in his arm is worse after the poking and prodding of the skin around it, he clenches his eyes tighter and turns his head to the side, his fingers shaking in the co-joined grip -or cocoon- of his and Hyunwoo’s hands. He feels a gentle squeeze and then fingers fumbling at the patch of material, before a burning sensation sets his nerves alight. 

The pain is intense, the burning fury rushing through his veins, the fabric ripping away from the skin. He thinks he screams, but all that he’s aware of is the burning trails down his cheeks, the low, concerned murmurs paired with low whimpers, a thumb rubbing over the back of his hand and the awful, searing pain in his arm. His mind feels fuzzy, the pain too great he feels as though passing out is the best option. The dark abyss within the black spots that cross his now open eyes, red-hot fire ignited through his body. 

When the black spots clear, he notices his face is buried in a chest and that his left hand is clutching the material of the other’s clothes, whilst their hand rubs sooting circles at the nape of his neck. He’s openly crying, wet sobs muffled by the fabric, face pressed close to the body, the whimpers are a constant stream from his mouth as he slurs out the same word, “hurts...hur’s..hu’ts..”

He can feel something damp, warm and wet on his right arm, the trickles of a liquid running down varied paths of his skin. Changkyun notices the hands are pulling and twisting him to the side, an attempt to manoeuvre him, his body bunched up as hands lift him up, his left arm curled into his body while someone else manages his right, there’s an arm under the back of his knee’s and one under his shoulder blades, strong hands curled around his naked torso and clothed leg. His head lolls into the firm chest chest and all he can do is emit sounds of pain and distress, sobs wracking his being, while his body screams at the agony. 

He hears Hyunwoo’s voice shushing him, the calm, soothing tone bringing him out of the pain induced loss of control. “Shh, shh, I know it hurts, little one, it’s okay, you’ll be okay. Just let the doctor do his work, the pain will be gone soon. We’ll get your dog after this, would that help?”

The mention of his little dog plushie has him nodding, “puppy, please...it hurts.” The sobs making his voice raspier and he coughs wetly a few times. 

The sound of the tap running and the touch of another set of gentle hands on him, has him whining softly. His arm is lowered and his trembling fingers hit lukewarm water, he flinches and tries to pull away, mumbling, “no, no, no,” into Hyunwoo’s chest. 

The other is quick to placate him, “shh, the doctor just needs to clean your injury, to make sure there’s nothing bad in your arm, you’re being so good, little one. Just hold still for a little bit, okay?”

Changkyun whines again and releases the tension in his arm, allowing it to be moved where ever needed. Which is into the water and he muffles his shriek by clamping his teeth down on the fabric of Hyunwoo’s uniform. His tears drip down his face and dampen the material, there’s something soft brushing over the wound and he flinches as it gently presses, his nerves setting alight again. He feels dizzy and can’t help but mumble random words, “puppy..hurts, stop.. no..hur’s..”

His arm is drawn out of the water and the liquid drips down, creating little ‘plop’ sounds and he giggles a bit and sucks the material in his mouth, gnawing at the fibres as a haze settles over his mind, the pain numbing but still, he felt dizzy. Once his arm is twisted awkwardly to get it under the running water, he muffles another cry of pain and it’s followed by a low conversation between the two tallest people in the room. Something soft is wrapped around his arm and he tries to draw it away as firm pressure is held over the injury, but he’s uneventful and his arm is held still. 

His mind feels fuzzy and soft, although he’s aware of what’s happening, Changkyun finds himself in a mindset that has him confused, there’s the sharp pain and agony of his injury, but there’s also the soft, comfortable, fluffy feeling of wherever his mind has retreated to. Where ever that is, he’s not sure, but it’s a soft, floaty space, like he’s sleeping on a cloud and wrapped in the finest blankets. So he sleepily mumbles a word he hadn’t said in years.

“Hyung...” His voice is higher than it’s usual low pitch and it’s more innocent sounding, “need puppy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like how this chapter ended, but i’m tired and I wanted to post it. So here you go. 
> 
> I’m sorry for making kyun hurt so much. 
> 
> This chapter would have been a lot longer....., and taken probably another week..., but i saved some stuff for chapter 3 :). Hope you enjoyed, and stay safe!!


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